


Unicorns

by Kittyhawke56



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28699407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyhawke56/pseuds/Kittyhawke56
Summary: Unresolved tension after the fiasco at Haley's leads to more unresolved tension at the Warehouse.
Relationships: Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Kat

“Kat,” Nate’s deep voice, soft and full of concern, stopped me before I could leave the kitchen. I turned slowly to face him. He sat at the big table, still where I had left him, frowning slightly at me. “What’s wrong? You seem-” he paused for a moment, searching for the right word “-tense. On edge.” 

My shoulders slumped slightly, trust Nate to pick up on something like that. Shrugging, I tried to play my discomfort off as nothing. 

Nate stood, unfolding from the chair to tower over me. I didn’t think he meant to, but at almost an entire foot taller than me, it was hard to avoid. The crease between his brows deepened as he looked down at me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. 

“If this is about the bounty or the trappers,” He shook his head, “you know we’re doing everything to keep you safe. We won’t let them get you.”

“Because that worked so well with Murphy,” I muttered to the floor, then winced, regretting the words as soon as I said them. Nate’s hand dropped from my shoulder, and when I looked up into his face, I could see a muscle fluttering as he clenched his jaw. “Nate,” I reached out to lay a hand on his arm, “Nate, I’m sorry. I know you are.”

He moved away from me, back to his chair, shaking his head. “We are better prepared this time,” he said, voice so full of confidence I almost believed him.

I raised a brow at him, then shrugged, “That’s not it anyway.” Sighing, I passed a hand over my face. I didn’t really want to talk about this, but he’d most likely hear about it anyway. Better to get it out right now instead of letting it fester.

Bracing my hands on the sturdy back of one of the kitchen chairs, I stared at a knot in the table. “It’s nothing really,” I lied, “I just heartily embarrassed myself.” I traced the wood grain around the knot with my eyes. “In front of a bunch of people.” I found another knot to look at, keeping my gaze firmly away from the kindly, if penetrating, look in Nate’s eyes. “With Mason. At Haley’s.” 

There was a moment of silence from him, then a quiet, “Ah.” 

Ah, indeed.

I pushed on. “I shouldn’t have taken him in there with me, or at least I shouldn’t have stayed there to eat. I’m sure it was awful for him.” 

For a second, I wavered, unsure how much to tell him. A glance toward Nate showed me a thoughtful expression and finger tapping along the table edge. Gritting my teeth, I pressed on, “I probably shouldn’t have kissed him over breakfast either.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nate’s finger hesitate for a moment, then continue its thoughtful pattern, “No, probably not-”

“I also shouldn’t have fled the scene quite so dramatically,” I interrupted. 

The room grew very quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the slight creak of wood as I tightened my grip on the chair. 

Finally, Nate spoke, “what did he say?” 

His voice was so gentle, so caring. It struck me right to the core.

I felt the prick of tears sting my eyes and had to swallow down the lump in my throat before I could continue. Shrugging, I whispered, “It’s Mason. What do you think.” My chest squeezed, aching. I was going to cave in on myself. Bowing my head over my white-knuckled hands, I shook it slightly, “He didn’t say anything I didn’t already know.” 

How could one heart break into so many pieces and still function? How could I still stand here, even while I shattered into a million tiny shards?

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look up at Nate. There was none of the pity I expected to find, only a gentle understanding in his kind brown eyes. 

I shook my head again. At him, at myself. “I should have remembered-” I faltered “-He’s always been perfectly clear-” I had to stop again. 

“About what?”

I gave Nate a scornful look, a sudden wave of anger overwhelming the despair, “That he doesn’t give a shit about me. Other than to get into my pants, of course.” 

I straightened, angry, and done with the conversation. My fingers ached when I finally managed to let go of the chair. It was almost a surprise that I hadn’t left indents in the wood. 

When I risked another look at Nate, he frowned slightly, something infinitesimally sad about his expression. “You know that’s not true.” 

I scoffed, “Sure, I’ll believe that when Felix finally finds those unicorns.” Some of my anger bled away, leaving me to slump again, “It doesn’t matter anyway. He was pretty clear about it.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, clenching my fists till my nails dug into my palms, leaving new half-moons over old scars. “I got ahead of myself, let myself hope-” I shook my head. “I won’t forget again.”

“Kat,” there was that concern again. I shook my head at him, turning to leave.

“I’ll be ok, Nate, I-” I hesitated in the doorway, “Thank you for listening.”

His, “of course,” followed me out of the room. 

I was so focused on getting away from Nate and his quiet understanding that I didn’t notice the dark form in the shadows, didn’t see the aborted movent reaching for me.


	2. Mason

Mason found Kat in the library. Alone, reclining on the couch. She had her feet tucked under a crochet blanket meant for decoration rather than warmth. A mug of tea sat forgotten behind her. Her hair tumbled loose, the curls hanging just above her bare shoulders. A single lamp illuminated the book in her lap, casting a halo of warm light around her in the otherwise dark library. The only sound was the steady thump of her heart and the occasional turn of a page. 

From where Mason stood skulking in the doorway, she looked at home, at peace. 

Not happy, though. 

It had been days since they last spoke. 

Kat had been avoiding him, or he had been avoiding her, one of those. Mason was reluctant to look too closely. There was so much uncertainty in the situation, so many tumbling emotions he could barely keep his head above the flood. He was drowning, and he’d unthinkingly dragged her into the maelstrom as well. 

He needed to apologize, but how? How could he possibly apologize for something he barely understood? 

He could still see it; every time he closed his eyes, he saw her cheerful, carefree smile crumple, saw her dark eyes fill with tears. It would have been less painful to have a knife shoved into his heart. It had been a stupid thing to say, thoughtless, and he’d hurt her, possibly caused irrevocable damage to whatever this was between them. It came as a surprise that he cared, but Mason found that he cared very much indeed. 

Cared enough to be lingering in this doorway, attempting to formulate something, anything to say to her. 

Mason had overheard her conversation with Nate. He hadn’t meant to; he’d been passing by and heard his name and stopped to listen, which had been another stupid thing to add to his recent growing list. 

“ _He doesn’t give a shit about me.”_ her words echoed in his mind alongside the images of her in the bakery. 

Mason sighed, leaning against the wall outside the library, still wracking his brain for something to say. Nothing came to mind. Somehow he didn’t think that marching in with, “I do give a shit about you, please stop ignoring me,” was going to cut it. 

He still had nothing when he walked into the library. Nothing save a desperate need to see her smile again, to bask in the sunny warmth of it. 

Kat tensed when he stepped into the room, fingers tightening on her book as she looked warily up at him through her bangs. She sat up quickly, sliding her feet from the couch and accidentally sending the blanket slithering onto the floor. Neither of them moved to pick it up. 

They stared at each other, uncomfortable silence growing thick between them—unsaid things hovering, stifling in the air around them. Mason thought he might choke on them, the things he should say, the things trying to claw their way from his throat. 

Kat finally broke some of the tension by looking down and away, enough that he finally managed to force something out. 

“Kat,” he faltered, still unsure how to do this, how to fix what he’d broken. He’d just taken a breath to say something else when she interrupted him. 

“I’m sorry, Mason.”

He froze, staring at her in confusion. Too many thoughts warred through his head, spinning enough to nearly make him dizzy. Of those thoughts, most predominantly was, _“What the fuck is she apologizing for?”_

Kat was staring down at the book in her hands, idly flipping it over and over. Mason watched the movement, mesmerized, still trying to reason out why _she_ was apologizing. 

He flicked his eyes back to her face when she spoke again. 

“I shouldn’t have made you wait in Haley’s while I ate. I’m sorry. It must have been awful for you.” Kat looked up then, meeting his eyes. She smiled at him, but the smile was _wrong_ somehow, false. 

A lie. 

She continued without giving him a chance to speak, “I know you’re hard to embarrass, but I’m sorry for the way I left too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Her voice was so carefully neutral, as though she were discussing the weather, not something that had her heart fluttering like a wounded bird in her chest. Mason felt like the whole world was somehow out of kilter, as though someone had just torn the ground from beneath his feet. He shook his head as she spoke, a knot of unreasonable anger growing in his chest. 

She should have been furious with him; she should have been screaming, raging. Instead, she sat, fidgeting with the book, smiling that meaningless smile at him.

Shouting would have been better than this emptiness. 

“Kat, what I said-”

“What you said was nothing but honest.” her voice was light, easy, and each word fell on him like a punch to the gut. “I overreacted, and it wasn’t fair of me.”

Mason growled, taking a step forward. All the anger, frustration, and confusion boiled over in his chest, bubbling up his throat and threatening to drown him if he didn’t release it somehow. Mason took a step forward, taking a breath to speak, intent on provoking something from Kat, anything. 

Before he could formulate anything more articulate than a growl, Kat stood, setting the book aside. She offered him another of those blinding, false smiles. 

“Give me a bit longer to get over my embarrassment. Then we can go back to normal, OK?” she stopped right in front of him, seemingly unaffected by the scowl twisting his face. “I should probably be thanking you-” she reached up and bopped the tip of his nose. Mason fell back a little, face going slack in surprise, “-for the wakeup call. It seems I was letting my heart get away from me.”

Kat moved past him, pausing to lay a hand on his forearm. “You aren’t the first person to tell me what I’m good for. I should not have forgotten; it won’t happen again, I promise.” 

The sincerity in those dark eyes stole the words from his mouth, shoving them back down his throat so he felt like he might choke on them. She should have eviscerated him. It would have been kinder, less painful. 

She could have torn the heart from his chest and made him watch it stop beating, and it would have hurt less.

Mason could do nothing but watch helplessly as she strolled toward the door, apparent;y unknowing or uncaring that she had just destroyed him.

Hand on the doorframe, she turned, looking him in the eye. Glittering hints of anger, the first he’d seen from her today, burned in her eyes as they met his. That little show of emotion would have been a relief, but her next words, a parting shot, utterly obliterated him.

“At least Bobby never said it to my face.”

Kat left him there, rooted to the spot, gutted, shaking.


End file.
